


Fabric of the past

by arcana_fuse



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Canon Lesbian Relationship, F/F, IM NOT OKAY AT ALL?, Kissing, Post Season 5, Tooth Rotting Fluff, WILL I EVER BE???, adora is so dramatic, catra secretly likes the jacket, catradora, even if she complains about it, inspired by Catra’s outfit in Adora’s dream sequence, probably not, proud gfs, they’re happy and it’s what they deserve, we won we literally won, yes they’re roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:13:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24284167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arcana_fuse/pseuds/arcana_fuse
Summary: Adora decides it’s time to retire her jacket for good. Her girlfriend has other ideas.
Relationships: Adora & Catra (She-Ra), Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 420





	Fabric of the past

She stares at it in her hands until she’s sure a hole will burn through with its intensity alone— to match the others residing all over it, of course. Adora is knelt down alone in her room beside her closet, running the soft fabric of her tattered jacket through her fingertips. She holds it like it’s a newborn baby, treats it with a sort of delicate tenderness despite it being clearly inanimate. Her heart burns as she realizes this was a goodbye she never thought she’d have to experience.

It certainly wasn't the easiest thing she'd ever done, shrugging off the old thing and stuffing it into a dusty closet where it would probably reside forever. Strings and damaged lines decorated the seams of it, holes and scratches from past battles littered the back. It could in fact be classified as garbage at that point, like her friends always teased..but throughout all those years the damned thing had grown on her more and more with each passing day. It was a consistency that reminded her of old times, before the war, the pain, the struggle brought about for all of them. That warm feeling of its grip on her shoulders, soft sleeves hugging her tightly, it simply couldn't be combated. It's sentimentality far overruled her sense of reason.

She could hardly remember a time without it. When Shadow Weaver gifted it to her when she was ten, (gifts were rare, especially any sentiment from Shadow Weaver,) she'd worn it to every mission, every training session like it was a necessity. It was baggy and gigantic then, but she’d eventually filled out and it fit her like a glove. She remembers Catra teasing her about it and her squadmates often times stealing it to mess with her. Her attachment to it was obvious and followed her throughout her childhood, even to this point now.

Glimmer was right though, it was gross. It was starting to get a scent that could not be ignored, her girlfriend complained about it, even Adora was revolted by it. It became inappropriate for events that weren't casual because it was so terribly beaten up. Plus, a new wardrobe wouldn't hurt. It's not like she wore it every day, but she may as well in the fact that she coordinated every outfit around it.

Her arms don't seem to budge when she tries to place it in a box alongside the rest of her old clothes. Her internal resistance was so conflicted that she clenched her teeth with a groan. Gods, she couldn't do it, could she? It was comical, really. She'd take on the entire world collapsing, an extreme intergalactic threat.. risked her own life and even faced death itself multiple times. But she couldn't let go of this stupid jacket?

Truth was, it was far from stupid. That’s why this was so hard for her. As she finally launched it into the box with the rest of her old belongings, she slams the cover of the box in and runs away in a panic. She tries to forget about it, fighting every urge to turn around and just slide the sleeves over her shoulders. Warm. Safe. She already felt less of those things knowing she’d gotten rid of it forever.

Later that night, Adora is sitting on her cot, eyes wide as she stares up at the ceiling, deep in thought. Eight hours later and she’s still thinking about the jacket like it was her deceased kin. She idly wonders where Catra has been all day, being dragged off with Glimmer and Bow for a day of much needed relaxation. Adora would’ve joined them if the trio hadn’t insisted she needed time to mourn. They were probably right.

But she missed Catra already. She missed her warmth, her infectious smile, the rasp of her voice when Adora tickled her senselessly. They’d wasted so much time on opposite sides of the war, and now that they were together.. she wanted nothing more than to be by her side whenever possible.

Only moments later are her longing prayers answered. The door to her room opens, and in marches (speak of the devil) Catra. _The_ Catra. You know, Adora’s girlfriend. Yeah, she was still getting used to that one.

“Adora? You awake?” She whispers, as it’s late and Adora probably looks out cold just laying on the bed like a dead body. She sits up, muttering a soft ‘yes’ while rubbing her eyes in exhaustion and underlying pain. As troubled as she was, there’s nobody she’d rather seek comfort in than Catra, right now.

“I Uh.... made you something.” She thrusts out her arms which are holding a red garment. It’s tucked neatly between her hands, as if she’d tried her very best to present it. Adora’s breath catches in her throat, eyes widening at the sight of it. _Could it be..?_

She hands it to her, her shyness imminent as if wondering if Adora would like it or not. Even without seeing it, Adora knew that if was made by Catra she'd love it no matter what. She already couldn't wipe the smile off her face.

She couldn’t believe what lay in her hands. “You did this, Catra? Wow.. it looks.. _incredible_." Okay, she admitted it. Catra was most definitely the biggest sweetheart in Etheria. Sure enough, it was Adora’s jacket that lay in her hands, in all of its repaired, unadmonished glory. It certainly wasn’t a perfect replica but it had a certain style to it that was so incredibly her _girlfriend_ that she wanted to cry. Catra had even gone through the trouble of refurbishing it by hand. Her eyes scanned the pricks down her girlfriend’s arms, bandaids in a small trail— knowing a semblance of pain, thought and consideration had all gone into it. Plus, it looked even more badass than before. It was incredible work for an amateur, and the fact that Catra had clearly spent hours of hard work on it.. it left Adora speechless.

The catgirl was never one for grand gestures, having to keep up her facade of indifference. But this was definitely something.

"Yeah well, Sparkles took up sewing. And dragged me in.. so.. figured I'd make some use of those stupid classes." Her hand found the back of her neck in nervous habit, blushing fiercely at her girlfriend’s overwhelming appreciation, and Adora’s heart burst. Catra cared. She really did. “Don’t go making a big deal out of it, or anything.”

Adora is so touched that her voice comes out in a staggering whisper, “Thank you, Catra. I love it so much. I love you.” Adora almost sobs at the sentiment, eyes heavy.

“Okay, okay. It’s just a dumb jacket. No need to go crying or anything.” Catra huffs, mumbling to herself at how dramatic Adora was being. She hadn’t expected any less. “But.. I love you too, dork.” She crosses her arms as if embarrassed by her girlfriend’s sappy anticcs, but it does nothing to hide her smile at her girlfriend’s statement of endearment. She never got tired of hearing Adora say that.

“I’ll cherish it forever. I mean it, like.. wow.” She continues anyway, knowing Catra was easily overwhelmed with affectionate words, and it showed in her obvious blush from across the room. She’d always basked in her praise, whether she admitted it or not.

"Uh, who said it was for you?" Catra scoffed, snatching the garnet back and holding it close to her chest. Adora blinked.

"Mine now, babe." She grinned, shrugging it on. The differences from the original garnet stood stark on her tan skin. The collar was cut out, leaving only the bright red base. She left it open, and it nothing short of complimented her small and curvy figure. The ends of it caught on her waist, stopping just below the button of her ripped jeans. Underneath was only Catra's nightshirt, and heat rose to Adora's face at the scene happening before her. Catra. In her jacket. Right now.

It was like a semblance of her dreams. God help her.

"Okay, seriously? What's going on?" Adora sputters aloud, still confused by what was happening. She hopes Catra doesn’t see how much she’s short circuiting, heat rising to her face. Catra doesn’t seem quite as nervous now, and with a roll of her eyes, steps much closer to her.

"What does it look like? I've restored _my_ jacket." She grins proudly, thumbs tucked under the sides of the refurbished collar. She does a little twirl as if she's on the red carpet, and Adora almost passes out. Was this real?

Adora can only laugh. She bring her hands up to cup Catra's face, pressing her forehead to hers. "So you admit you've liked it? All this time?" She thinks back to a time when Catra used to rant about how much she hated it.. how she'd beg and plead Adora to throw it out. Hell, she was sure she’d start a whole protest about it sooner or later, signs and everything. Now, years later, she’d finally gone through with it. And now Catra was the one who couldn't let go?

" _No_!" She grumbles, eyebrows furrowing in annoyance. Though what with how her eyes dart to the floor, she's obviously caught her in a lie. "It just.. it smells like you. And... you looked pretty sad without it around. That's all." Her honesty brings a small blush to her face, and she averts her gaze from anywhere but her girlfriend shamefully.

"Catra!" She coos, grin flicking to her face like a flame. "You like meee!"

"Ugh, no." She fakes a gag, pulling away from Adora's soft touch. She suppresses how the simple brush of her fingertips on her face set her skin alight.

"It's sentimental, alright?" It comes out that way, but it’s not quite what she means.

  
It’s _yours. And I love anything that has to do with you._

Adora couldnt agree more, exploding into yet _another_ smile. When did Catra not make her smile? She was seriously going to explode. "That's literally so freaking adorable. You're killing me." It was true. Ever since they'd moved into their shared room in Brightmoon, Catra's companionship was almost overwhelming. Being with Catra like this... safe, comfortable.. it was unmatchable. She still couldn't believe that she got the privilege to be Catra’s girlfriend- gods, she was truly the luckiest woman in the entire world. She got to see a side of Catra that nobody else could. She wanted to see more.

"I am not adorable!" Catra growled. Adora knew that she hated the term— but _also_ secretly liked being complimented. Catra's hand shoves against Adora’s exposed collarbone with a grunt. "Also, killing you, huh? Well... I still feel a heartbeat. So seems I haven't quite finished the job."

"Oh? Well... that simply will not do." Adora mused, leaning in close to her girlfriend to where their noses were touching. She still couldn't believe she was here with Catra, after everything. Sitting in her red jacket. That she'd fixed. This was perfect. Catra was perfect.

"No, it won't, Princess.” A grin tugs to her lips, the same one Adora had grown to love. Only this time, it wasn’t spiteful, fearful— it was filled with only admiration for the blonde in front of her. So much admiration that it was clear she’d do anything for her. Even if it was turning something bitter and old into another memory. “So.. c’mere."

Adora certainly died that night, even if the jacket was long forgotten and tossed aside— caught in a flurry of passionate kisses, arms wrapped around one another in an inseparable, dream instilled embrace. If throwing out the damn thing was what it took to have an excess of these tender moments, she wouldn't have hesitated. Nor would she have it any other way.


End file.
